


Love, Love, Love

by zenonaa



Series: TogaFuka Week 2015 [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Bad end, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We could be the protagonists in a slice of life,” she had said, sprawled like a cat across the sofa in the recreation room. She brandished a pair of scissors. The metal glinted like the saliva on her tongue and she adjusted her hold, letting the edge of the plaster on one of her fingers fold in on itself. “Slice of life... Ah, just saying the word reminds me of the good ol’ days. But don’t you worry, darling, there is only one kind of scissoring I wanna do with you. Or at all, really. Besides, why trade out an epilogue ending for the shit outside, y’know?”</p><p>He had looked over at her. Syo had seemed thoughtful as she stared up at the ceiling.</p><p>“It’s like a clogged up toilet outside.” She twirled her scissors around one of her fingers. “Full of shit. Yeah, I think I’ll like settling down.”</p><p>How simple it would have been otherwise, if they could have labelled Touko’s death as a heroic sacrifice.</p><p>---</p><p>Fukawa dies. Togami really shouldn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Love, Love

Beads of water leaked from the faucet and exploded against the porcelain base of the sink, dripping, dripping, dripping.

Byakuya Togami, slumped forward against the sink, lifted his gaze and fixed it onto the mirror. His reflection locked him in a flinty stare, its face as white as his taut knuckles, brownish-purple under the eyes.

Touko Fukawa had been dead for two weeks but it wasn’t like knowing how much time had elapsed made any difference.

He listened to the faucet cry as he prised his hand off the sink and dragged his fingers down his face.

* * *

“Togami-chi? You in here?”

The voice drifted over from somewhere near the door of the library but Byakuya couldn’t be more exact than that because a row of bookshelves blocked his view. With no desire to come out from his corner to greet the owner of the voice, Byakuya stayed seated and continued reading.

His silence seemed not to satisfy the intruder as seconds later, footsteps trickled into the room. Not one set or even two, but three sets hesitantly journeyed in. Apparently Yasuhiro wasn’t alone and had brought the others with him. It figured, to be honest. They all had a habit of clustering together so they could lick each other’s wounds and lie to each other to make them feel better about themselves. During their time here, everyone else grew dependent on each other and he found that disgusting. Byakuya prided himself on never falling so low.

“There you are,” said Makoto as he entered Byakuya’s vision. He offered a faint smile wider than those of Aoi and Yasuhiro, who joined the other two seconds later, but Byakuya barely noticed, focused instead on the large rectangle that Makoto was clutching against his chest.

“We wondered where you’d gone off to,” said Aoi. She clasped her hands together. “You weren’t in your room like you usually are these days...”

Byakuya went back to reading his book and replied, “I’m under no obligation to report to you about my every movement.”

“Now that’s the Togami-chi that we all know,” said Yasuhiro with a small laugh.

“Of course I am,” said Byakuya, glancing up. “I haven’t changed at all.”

Aoi and Yasuhiro furrowed their brows and exchanged looks.

“R-Right,” said Makoto. He stepped forward and extended out his arm, holding the rectangle toward Byakuya, but Byakuya merely narrowed his eyes and made no attempt to take it from Makoto. “We... thought you might like this.”

Makoto lay the rectangle down onto the desk and took a step back.

Byakuya put down his book and peered over at what he supposedly wanted. The rectangle was a framed photograph, the same size as the ones that substituted for dead students during murder trials. It even had a ribbon bow like those portraits, only the ribbon on this one wasn’t as embellished, plain black and a lot smaller, and the frame was simpler too. He had to lean further forward to properly see the photograph and catching sight of who was in it, he widened his eyes.

“We got it from Monobear.” Aoi tried to keep her tone light. “It’s not the same one that was used in her trial. None of us thought you’d want one with a fat, red cross on it so we asked Monobear for a new one. We thought he wouldn’t agree to it but he went and printed off a clean version for us.”

She gave a nervous giggle.

“Are you mocking me?” asked Byakuya. His eyes darted to Aoi’s face. He swallowed and clenched his fists.

“What?” said Aoi. She reeled in her wandering gaze.

“Get that disgusting thing out of my sight,” Byakuya demanded, gesturing to the photograph.

Aoi tensed.

“But Togami-kun...” started Makoto.

“Why the hell would I want that?” asked Byakuya, raising his voice. He searched their faces for an answer during the seconds of silence that followed his question.

Yasuhiro cupped his hand around the back of his neck and forced himself to meet Byakuya’s eyes. “We, uh, we thought, seeing as you were fond of Fukawa-chi and all, you might-?”

“I might want a picture of her?” finished Byakuya, and he shot a glare at Touko’s face, willing it to set alight. “That’s a bold assumption you’ve cobbled together. You must be disappointed that you couldn’t get her autograph on it too because maybe then it would have been worth something on the market. Throw that disgusting thing into the incinerator this instant.”

Aoi unclasped her hands and balled them into individual fists. “Hey, you’re not the only one who misses her. We’re doing you a favour...!”

A favour indeed. Byakuya snorted and folded his arms over his chest.

Makoto kept to one side of them, standing between them but not positioning himself in a way that cut off their view of the other. He showed Byakuya his palms and said, “Asahina-san is only saying that we just mean to help cheer you up. What happened to Fukawa-san was so sudden...”

“She fell down the stairs,” said Byakuya with averted eyes. The pile of books on his desk reminded him of the ones that surrounded her body and his arms tingled with the urge to knock them off so he couldn’t see them anymore. “That girl’s ineptness was of a ridiculous level...”

“You-!” Aoi stumbled forward. Makoto shifted and threw his arm out to the side, creating a barrier that she bumped into. She pressed into his arm but not with enough strength to push through. Her scowl slowly melted away and she backed away a few paces. With a huff, she hugged herself and cast her eyes to the floor.

Byakuya reached for the portrait and picked it up. Keeping his eyes on Touko’s face, he pulled the portrait closer and said, “I still fail to see what you’re trying to achieve by dumping this thing with me.”

“Just give it a go,” said Yasuhiro.

“A go?” repeated Byakuya.

“Like a trial run, ‘right?” Yasuhiro elaborated. Footsteps thudded and a heavy hand fell onto Byakuya’s shoulder. Byakuya still didn’t look up, not even when Yasuhiro gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe having a picture of her will mean you won’t have to spend so long trying to remember her and it’ll make you...”

Yasuhiro paused, trying to plan his next words in a route that wouldn’t set off any landmines, but he ended up trailing off.

Losing interest in everyone else, Byakuya stroked his thumb against the edge of the photograph. Touko was just like how he remembered her. He parted his lips and said under his breath, “A trial run. Very well, I’ll humour you.”

* * *

Byakuya initially had no clue what to do with the portrait and in the end, he left it on his bedside table before he crawled into bed later that day. When he awoke during the night, the first thing he saw was her face. Well, a picture of her face, anyway. Once his heartbeat slowed to a suitable pace, he shoved the portrait into a drawer and tried to go to sleep again.

After an hour of lying on his side, he decided that stowing it away somehow worsened his insomnia so he retrieved it from where he had hidden it and returned it to his bedside table. Touko watched over him once more from next to the bed, her eyes boring into his back. An ache developed in the arm underneath him so he rolled over. Byakuya couldn’t see her properly without the lights on but he knew her portrait was there and would be in the morning.

He drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Before she died, Touko had spoken a lot about books. With her Super High School Level being Literary Girl, that came as no surprise. Reading happened to be one of Byakuya’s many interests and one that was a favourite. As a child, he spent hours at a time in his mansion’s library and when he attended school, he browsed through the libraries there extensively as well. Hope’s Peak Academy had documents which not even he could have accessed prior to enrollment here and while everyone else in the mutual killing scenario occupied themselves with worrying and resorting to whimsy emotional bonds, he took advantage of the wealth of information available to him.

His finger skimmed across book spines as he hunted for any that grabbed his attention and his search led him through various sections of the library. Nonfiction. Fiction. He strode through the fiction section. The library’s selection of novels was rather lacking in this area, at least to him, containing many that he already read, and usually it wouldn’t bother him because he preferred nonfiction books in most cases. Among other things, Touko and Byakuya discussed several fiction books up until her death and admittedly, their conversations entertained him. There had been more to her than her stuttering and lewd remarks and though their interpretations differed at times, he gained a renewed interest in literature due to her.

Byakuya reached the end of a row of bookshelves and turned to head down another. As he did, he accidentally struck the bottom of the unit with his foot. He clenched his jaw and bent over, balancing on one leg as he rubbed his toes.

At this rate, he would have to read something crass if he wanted to read anything. Something like a trashy romance-

An idea occurred to him. Byakuya hesitated.

If he was honest, which he most definitely was, Touko’s books weren’t trashy but the fact that they belonged to the romance genre didn’t do any favours in winning him over and he wouldn’t have bothered with them had she not been an author of great renown. Upon learning of who would be in his class, he read a few of her books, working through those regarded as her best and even he became invested in her narrative, drawn in by her rich vocabulary which she manipulated into art almost spellbinding. People weaker than him would have been pliable in her hands, as evidenced when fishermen became popular with girls after one of Touko’s novels was published.

That was an incredible talent. Combined with his own talents, they could have become a formidable force, and Byakuya stopped toying with the idea at that moment. Touko was dead so there wasn’t any point. Byakuya released his foot and stood up properly. He walked over to the bookshelf where her novels should have been. She had complained that the library didn’t have any of her books but as Byakuya had no desire to ask Monobear if he could go into her room so he could rummage around for some, he had no other choice.

Just as he expected, none of her books were on the shelf where they would be if the library stocked them. Not satisfied with this finding, Byakuya plucked books off the shelf as if one might be hidden at the back, perpendicular to the rest, and when he caught a glimpse of a book that was tucked away behind those in front, he cleared the row until he could take the book out.

It was one of hers. One that he hadn’t read. He checked the publication date and saw that it had been published last year.

“How did that get there?” asked Monobear from behind Byakuya.

Byakuya kept his back to him, refusing to acknowledge Monobear.

“Upupupu,” went Monobear, sounding like he was laughing into his paws. “Maybe Fukawa-san didn’t want anyone to read it so she slipped it there because what sort of person would look for a book in a library, right? Isn’t that classic Fukawa-san logic?”

“No,” said Byakuya. He gripped tighter to the book. “Fukawa wouldn’t do that. She knew she was an extremely talented writer.”

“Oh? Since when did you become an expert on Fukawa-san? Did that happen on one of your dates?”

The back of Byakuya’s neck prickled.

“It’s not like I care about what you bastards get up to. I only watched your little hangouts to make sure you didn’t get up to anything inappropriate outside of your rooms.” Monobear gave another laugh, this one not into his paws. “As the headmaster, I have to make sure this school’s reputation remains spick and span. But you made my job easy if not pretty boring by just talking and talking and staring and staring. Geez, you didn’t even confess to her. And here I was, so excited about my OTP getting together.”

Byakuya stiffened. He finally moved, glaring at Monobear from over his shoulder. “Your rambling is more asinine than usual.”

“Is it?” asked Monobear, and he touched a paw to his mouth. “Is it really, Togami-kun?”

Monobear vanished.

As usual, Monobear had been full of nonsense. Byakuya carried the book between his arm and his side and left the library, retiring to his bedroom for the remainder of the day. He settled into bed to read his book, his pillow propped against the headboard.

Touko stared at him from the bedside table.

Byakuya turned the page.

On the bedside table, Touko stared at him.

Unable to concentrate, he turned her portrait away from him, but he made sure it was facing him that night like it had been every night that past week.

Being the fast reader that he was and having not much else to do now that he had withdrawn from the mutual killings, or so he claimed, Byakuya finished Touko’s book by the end of the next day. He returned it to its shelf in the library and then stood still as he decided on his next course of action. Just like the previous day, none of the books in the main area of the library captured his interest, and he didn’t care to trek between aisles again.

An inspection of the entire unit where he found Touko’s novel revealed the existence of no other secret books and when he put the last book back into its rightful place on the shelf, he remembered the library’s back room. It contained a variety of confidential documents and his mind conjured the image of a particular one within seconds. Byakuya went into the back room and sorted through the documents stored in there until he uncovered the one that he wanted, finding it where he had put it after he read it the last time.

Though there were documents in here that he had yet to peruse, the case file that he brought back to his room was one that he had read recently. He lay on his bed but before Byakuya opened the case file, he read the sleek, black cover.

Written in silver was ‘MURDER CASES OF GENOCIDER SYO. TOP SECRET.’

Byakuya started from the beginning, poring over mugshots of victims and photographs of their crucified corpses. Characteristics, timestamps and addresses of crime scenes cycled through his mind as he read on. None of the images disconcerted him the first time that he came upon the file but turning to the last page, he felt nausea roll over in the bottom of his stomach and it wasn’t due to the blood or the matter-of-fact way that matched his tone with which the murders were described in.

Genocider Syo and Touko Fukawa were dead. Gone.

During his first meeting with Syo and one time when Aoi cut her finger while cooking dinner with Touko, Syo told him that she would never kill if she knew she wouldn’t get away with it. Despite her tendency to prance around with scissors and give people a new nickname every time they started another conversation, she wasn’t a fool. Syo wasn’t evil either and posed no threat to them no matter what the others may have thought. Byakuya recalled her saying once to him that she would be content with being trapped inside the school as long as he was trapped alongside her. As long as they were together.

“We could be the protagonists in a slice of life,” she had said, sprawled like a cat across the sofa in the recreation room. She brandished a pair of scissors. The metal glinted like the saliva on her tongue and she adjusted her hold, letting the edge of the plaster on one of her fingers fold in on itself. “Slice of life... Ah, just saying the word reminds me of the good ol’ days. But don’t you worry, darling, there is only one kind of scissoring I wanna do with you. Or at all, really. Besides, why trade out an epilogue ending for the shit outside, y’know?”

He had looked over at her. Syo had seemed thoughtful as she stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s like a clogged up toilet outside.” She twirled her scissors around one of her fingers. “Full of shit. Yeah, I think I’ll like settling down.”

How simple it would have been otherwise, if they could have labelled Touko’s death as a heroic sacrifice. If they could have thought of it as her protecting them all from Big Bad Genocider Syo and not as a misplaced footstep at the top of a flight of stairs. Oh, that would have even been romantic to some.

Back on his bed, Byakuya cast his eyes toward Touko’s portrait, who silently heard his thoughts and offered no explanations.

“No noble sacrifice.” His voice rang out and he widened his eyes. He rolled onto his side so he was facing her. “No act of the true love that you babble on about. Just a pathetic accident. What sort of death do you call that? You lived through all that neglect and abuse and then what? Literary Girl, romance novelist...”

He stretched out his arm and brushed his fingertips against the portrait.

“Answer me!”

All he heard was heavy breathing.

“I hadn’t given you permission to leave me... so why did you leave me?”

Byakuya’s fingers curled inward, into his palm, and his shoulders trembled.

“I let you talk and I let you listen to me. I listened to you and this is how you paid me back. Fukawa, why didn’t you die before I...”

He seized his shirt with his spare hand, clinging to a handful of fabric above his heart, but his heart kept burning with an intensity that made him feel queasy and which he didn’t recognise, that he had only read about in Touko’s books and only knew to be wrong, wrong, wrong. It didn’t scare him though, because he couldn’t ever be scared.

“... why didn’t you die before I came to know you?”

Things would be simpler had that been the case. Had she died before she could poison him. His knuckles slid down the portrait and thumped onto the bedside table. Finally, he looked up from his hand, meeting Touko’s eyes. She watched him, listened, without judging, unable to judge, and even though she probably couldn’t see or hear him, his chest felt just a little bit lighter from unloading his thoughts. No one else heard or knew, so no one could use it to their own advantage against him.

“Touko Fukawa,” he whispered, and he was sure that she nearly smiled when he said her name. On his own face, a small smile formed. “Your last book was to an impressive standard...”

* * *

The rest of Byakuya’s classmates were still in the cafeteria when he walked in late morning. Byakuya took a seat at an empty table and placed Touko to the side of him.

“Yo, Togami-chi,” Yasuhiro called out. He winked. “Glad to see you’re still alive. And you’ve still got that thing with you, I see. Did you know that a few years back, I was ordained to perform legal marriages? True story. One heck of a night too. You could get married to that picture if you wanted.”

Yasuhiro laughed. Byakuya realised that Yasuhiro meant the last part as a joke. Not that a Togami ever got married because they wanted to. That would be ridiculous. They married whoever's child became heir. It was for public appearances.

“Anyway, how is that trial run of yours treating you?” asked Yasuhiro. “As an FYI, it was my idea.”

“No, it wasn’t. You wanted to give him some creepy picture of yourself with some cloth draped over you," said Aoi.

“Hey, don’t say it like that. It sounds weird when you phrase it that way. It’s called an artistic nude, ‘right?”

Makoto tried not to roll his eyes.

“Everything is fine.” Byakuya adjusted the portrait so he could see the front properly.

“That’s great,” said Yasuhiro. He stroked his finger against the underside of his nose. “Just, uh, don’t cut a hole in her mouth or anything weird like that.”

Aoi gasped and punched Yasuhiro lightly on the shoulder.

“I was kidding, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro with a slight grin. Yasuhiro rubbed his hand against where she had hit him. “Forget I said anything. So anyways, how about before lunch, we go play some-?”

“H-He’s a goddamn pervert!” came a voice. Touko’s voice. Byakuya’s eyes flitted toward the portrait. Yasuhiro continued talking but her voice was louder, so Byakuya had no idea what Yasuhiro said. “Not only that but he’s full of bullshit. H-His Super High School Level should be Super High School Level Bullshitter...!”

The voice sounded just like her.

“A thing... that’s what he called me,” she carried on, looking ill at the thought. “Someone of his class has no right to talk like that about me. I-I’ll only accept that sort of talk from-”

“... Togami-chi?” said Yasuhiro.

Byakuya shifted his gaze onto Yasuhiro. He closed his mouth. “Hm?”

“You must have zoned out for a bit there,” said Yasuhiro. “I just asked if you wanted to play some pool before lunch.”

“No. We’re going to the library,” said Byakuya. “I mean I am.”

“But you’re always in the library or in your room. Come on, it’ll be fun,” promised Aoi in a singsong voice. She wiggled her shoulders. The act she put on was so obviously fake and if somehow genuine, oh so deplorable.

He shook his head.

“Are you sure?” asked Makoto, brow creased.

Byakuya rapped his fingers against the table. “I’m sure.”

“Maybe you should go take a bath or nap or something then,” said Yasuhiro, the most serious that Byakuya had seen him for a while. “You look like you didn’t get any shuteye last night.”

“That’s because I didn’t,” Byakuya replied, well aware of the crescent shadows beneath his eyes. He stopping rapping the table and balled his hand into a fist, digging his nails into his palm.

“Couldn’t sleep again, huh?” said Yasuhiro with a weak smile. “You’re gonna turn into a zombie if you keep that up...”

“I-If that happened, a brainless dolt like you would have nothing to worry about,” said Touko, sneering, and Byakuya restrained a laugh.

Aoi would have been the second person to make that jab at Yasuhiro but she stayed quiet this time. She was preoccupied with a fraying bandage wrapped around her wrist, a bandage that was a familiar white like someone’s hair.

Makoto, focused on Byakuya, seemed about to say something but Yasuhiro interrupted.

“It's okay if you still need some more time to yourself, Togami-chi. You know where we are, ‘right?” said Yasuhiro, smile strained. “Give us a call if you ever want to hang out.”

Touko snorted. Byakuya’s hand stung. 

* * *

The bulb in the lamp in the library would need replacing soon.

“You read this to me,” recalled Byakuya, sat opposite Touko and with a book in his hands. “I saw you reading it in the library one time so I thought I would see why you were enjoying it so much. Then you visited my room while I was reading it and we...”

He glanced at her.

She gave him a knowing look.

His thumb moved in a slow, short stroke against the front cover of the book.

“It’s not a romance but I can see why you like it. You must relate to Mary Lennox.”

Byakuya swallowed. He set the book down.

“Things turned out well for her. From isolated early years to gaining a number of companions in another country... What she found isn’t what I’m striving toward but I suppose to many, it’s a satisfactory way to live out your life. Boring though, admittedly.”

He paused.

“You weren’t boring.”

Touko didn’t reply. Byakuya leaned closer with heavy eye contact, willing her to talk again like that morning however long ago. She watched him, breathing loudly, not talking, as if he was meant to converse with himself.

Heat welled up behind his eyes.

“Don’t just expel that smelly breath of yours.” He raised his voice. “I called you not boring. What do you expect me to say? That you’re interesting? You’re intelligent? Strong? That I might have liked having you by my side? Those are all true but you’re also annoying and you get under my skin and I hate... I hate...”

The skin by the outer corners of his eyes crinkled.

“I hate... that.”

His words trickled down his throat and sank to the pit of his stomach.

“I love you though,” said Touko and Byakuya’s mouth stretched out. He smacked his elbows onto the table and slumped forward, fingers buried in his hair.

“It’s too late for that,” Byakuya said, staring at the grain in the desk.

“No, it isn’t,” she assured him. “Th-This is the perfect time, in fact...!”

“Explain.”

“Y-You can tell me whatever you want and I’ll listen,” she said and peeking up, he saw her eyes were full of concern.

He hesitated. Then he lifted up the book. “... This book?”

“I read it to you on your bed,” she said. “The main character reminds me of... myself.”

“That’s right,” he said and he rose from his chair so he could go sit next to her. He positioned the book so both of them could see its pages. “Read to me now.”

Byakuya listened and when he glanced away a few minutes later, he saw Makoto leave through the door. Touko waited until he was paying attention again before she continued reading aloud, and he absentmindedly braided a bit of his hair while she talked.

* * *

“Hey, Togami?”

He turned his head. The fingers on both of Aoi’s hands were interlocked.

“I... want to talk to you about something,” she said. She looked at Touko for a moment before fixing her eyes onto him. “It’s... pretty... um, personal. This thing.”

The poor lighting in the library did little to dim her glowing face.

“I was thinking that, well, maybe you would like to... have someone to keep you company,” she said, and she straightened up.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked warily. He shrunk away from her as much as he could while staying on his chair.

Aoi gulped and aimed her gaze above his head.

“I don’t mean me specifically. Okay, what I’m trying to say is that w-we should have a baby,” she blurted and she started to speak quicker. “I’m the only one who can do it... with you, I mean. And it’ll give us, you, something, someone, to focus on that isn’t...”

Her shoulders hunched.

“Anyway, what do you say?” she asked.

The Togami Conglomerate would need heirs at some point.

Touko glared.

“I can’t replace her,” said Aoi, pretending that she understood. She drew her fingers apart and held her hands over her chest, cupped.

“Of course not,” Byakuya replied quietly and Touko grunted in agreement.

“But... a baby might be good for us. You. I think. And... And I’m going to be a mother someday, aren’t I? That’s what I’m meant to do, isn’t it?”

“What about those other guys?” Byakuya frowned. He fidgeted with the pull tab on his track jacket's zipper. “Did you make this offer to them before coming to me?”

“No!” Aoi waved her hands. “I can only have one person’s baby at a time and I thought... you’d like to be first. They don’t even know about any of this yet, I swear, and it’s not like we’re going to have to be a couple or anything. You had Fukawa-chan and I had... If it’s a girl, this baby, I want to call her ‘Sakura’. That’s my only condition.”

Maybe she wasn’t completely pretending to understand after all.

“As if Byakuya-sama would agree to something like that,” said Touko, fuming. “Y-You filthy cow, go find someone else to open your legs at!”

“Fine,” said Byakuya. He refused to look at Touko. His heart pounded but he otherwise felt surprisingly calm. Calm might not have been the right word though, because he wasn’t really feeling much of anything.

Aoi’s body relaxed but the change didn’t reflect in her tone of voice. She rubbed the back of her neck and put on a smile. “Really? Oh, okay. Um... I don’t know what... to do. I mean, I know the theory behind... s-sex... but I haven’t...”

Byakuya stood up. He left one hand on the desk. “I have.”

“Y-You have?” she said with a sudden backward movement.

“Once.”

“With her?”

“With her. Back when there were more of us,” he clarified.

“Oh.” The pity on Aoi’s face made him feel bilious. “I... didn’t know that.”

He closed the hand on the desk into a fist. “Of course you didn’t. I told Touko not to to tell anyone.”

Aoi mouthed the name that he uttered and wrapped her arms around herself.

“So all this time, you’ve...?” She cut herself off by biting down on her lip. “I’ll try to make it over and done with as soon as possible, all right?”

* * *

Despite what Aoi said, afterwards, after they came together with their own agendas and imagined the other as someone else, and after he left her room for the last time on those trips, it wasn’t over and done with. It wasn’t over. Nine months passed and when he stood behind Makoto and Yasuhiro, eyeing the pink mass swathed in white that lay in Aoi’s arms, she asked if he wanted to hold the bundle and Byakuya declined.

Instead he retreated to his room where inside, Touko had her back to him.

He fell into bed and stared up at the ceiling. Silence buzzed between his ears and he forced himself to turn Touko around. She narrowed her eyes at him, her white hot anger piercing his skin.

His expression was blank.

“You’re just like everyone else,” she eventually spat.

Her claim slapped him in the face.

Byakuya’s words tripped on the way up his throat. “I’m not l-like everyone else.”

“Y-You are! I bet you enjoyed b-being between her legs too...”

“I didn’t,” insisted Byakuya, and he cradled Touko in his arms. “I... I couldn’t. I couldn’t.”

He pressed his forehead against hers. Emotion seeped through to the surface of his face.

“I want you,” he admitted. “So damn fucking much.”

Touko’s glare softened and his skin cooled slowly, fading into pink like the scars that hadn’t been on Aoi’s thighs when she secured his hands onto them. Byakuya had only felt stripes of stretch marks on his grooved palms and a building pressure in his gut that didn’t come out as Aoi’s name. Not Aoi’s name and nothing that he said out loud either, and the name that she didn’t say most certainly wasn’t his.

Nor Makoto’s name, when that time came, and Makoto must have had another name in his head as well.

* * *

“Attendance is compulsory! Attendance is compulsory!” yelled Monobear, crashing a pair of cymbals together as he marched up and down the L-shaped corridor.

Aoi’s door creaked wider open. In her arms, a brown-haired baby cried, and she bounced him gently but to no success. He continued crying and would do so as long as Monobear continued his progression. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and let out a yawn. “What’s going on?”

Another door fully opened. Makoto parked his shoulder against the doorframe and watched Monobear with caution.

“I’m here to tell all of you about the blessed occasion.” Monobear came to a stop in front of Aoi. He looked around and stamped his feet. Steam spouted out of his ears. “Where’s Hagakure-kun? That bastard needs to hear about this too.”

“The blessed occasion?” repeated Makoto.

Monobear flounced up to Yasuhiro’s door. “Why, I’m talking of course about the wedding today!”

He dropped his cymbals and whipped out a party horn from inside his belly button. His cheeks puffed out as he blew into it, and he banged his paw against the door until a blearyeyed Yasuhiro answered it.

“Hear that?” said Monobear. “There’s going to be a wedding today!”

“A wedding?” mumbled Yasuhiro, not quite awake yet.

Soft footsteps sounded and a blond boy, slightly older than the one in Aoi’s arms, appeared at her side.

“Who’s getting married?” asked the boy.

Monobear toddled up to the boy and bopped him lightly on the nose. “Your daddy and his mistress, of course, you literal bastard.”

The boy clung onto Aoi’s leg and looked up at her. She shook her head and looked down the corridor, eyes on the fully shut door diagonally across from Makoto’s.

By now, Yasuhiro was more alert, but that didn’t mean he understood any better. “You mean Togami-chi’s going to marry... a picture of Fukawa-chi?”

Aoi cupped a hand over her mouth. “Is that even possible?”

Yasuhiro nodded solemnly. “I’ve officiated weirder weddings.”

“It’s a mystery how you got held back three grades,” remarked Monobear. “Yes! That’s right! I asked Togami-kun why he didn’t just marry that thing and then I remembered that you were ordained to perform legal weddings. Isn’t that convenient? Togami-kun loved the idea.”

“You’re not serious,” said Yasuhiro weakly, but they all knew that what Monobear said wasn’t unfeasible in any way.

“I also remembered that I have lots of different ways to force you to comply,” added Monobear with a dangerous edge to his upbeat tone. “Ten colon zero zero in the gymnasium. Don’t be late. Upupupu!”

Monobear disappeared. 

* * *

Beads of water leaked from the faucet and exploded against the porcelain base of the sink, dripping, dripping, dripping.

Byakuya Togami, stood opposite the mirror above the sink, fixed his eyes onto his reflection as he adjusted his tie. His reflection locked him in a flinty stare, its face as white as his face and brownish-purple under the eyes. He had brought several suits to the school with him so locating something appropriate to wear for the wedding hadn’t been an issue. Choosing one, however, proved more of a challenge. Though many appeared the same at first glance, they had slight variations. Different hems, different collar styles, different percentages of materials. In the end, he settled on the one that he wore when he arrived at the school, even choosing the same green cross tie.

“Togami?” came a voice from behind him.

He turned. Touko stood in the doorway.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, and he twisted around to face her properly.

“I know,” Touko admitted. “But I... want to know if you’re sure that you want to go through with this.”

“Oh? Are you having second thoughts?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed and she met his eyes. “Why would I...?”

Byakuya gave her a closer look. “You don’t have braids.”

“Braids?” repeated Touko, sounding confused.

He twitched his hand and said, “You usually have your hair in braids.”

“No, I-” Her mouth snapped shut. “Togami, it’s me. Asahina.”

The colours on Touko started to run, streaming down her body until the layer underneath became visible, and he realised she wasn’t Touko at all.

“You’re not her,” he said, staring.

Aoi reached out her hand. “Togami, are you feeling okay?”

He pushed himself up against the bathroom counter. “How dare you!”

“H-Huh?”

“You’re trying to seduce me again,” he said, arms poised in a defensive stance.

She cringed. “Of... Of course I’m not! Why would I want to do that?”

“So why are you here then?”

“Because I care!” Aoi shouted. Tears welled up in her eyes. “We all do. Don’t you see what has happened to you? You stink and you’re not you at all and I can’t believe I’m saying this but I prefer the old you! Remember when we all used to hang out? When we were happy?”

Byakuya didn’t move for some time. When he did, he turned back to the mirror. What nonsense. It wasn't him who stank - that was Touko, and she always stank.

Aoi left.

He listened to the faucet cry as he prised his hand off the sink and dragged his fingers down his face. The last bits of him either gathered under his nails or went down the drain.

* * *

Substituting for church pews were rows of classroom desks and Makoto thought that if he was to ever be executed, he would be sat at one of them. Placed on ten of the desks were a portrait of each of their dead friends, all with a red 'x' shape painted onto them, and at two of the desks in the front row were Aoi’s two sons, with Makoto’s son on cushions arranged to be like a booster seat. Makoto was beside Byakuya at the altar, waiting for the bride. Yasuhiro looked the most uncomfortable out of everyone present, dressed in a robe that his sandals poked out of at the bottom.

Monobear, seated at a pipe organ, began to play a tune. The doors of the gymnasium burst open and in padded Aoi, dressed in white and carrying a basket of flowers. She scattered petals as she walked down the aisle. A remote controlled car followed after her and had Touko’s portrait on the top of it. Byakuya’s face lit up.

Aoi chose to sit with her sons rather than stand with everyone else at the altar. Monobear stopped playing the pipe organ and jumped down from his stool. He waddled over to the toy car, which by now had driven all the way down the aisle, and picked up Touko’s portrait.

“Oi, Naegi-kun,” said Monobear, arms up, portrait over his head. “I’m not doing my morning exercises here.”

Makoto reluctantly took the portrait, aware that Byakuya was looking his way even though he was unable to lift his gaze higher than Byakuya’s shoulders.

“And you, Hagakure-kun,” said Monobear. He shook his fist. “Start talking.”

Yasuhiro coughed into the back of his hand and stood to attention. “Uh, everyone... Hi. We’ve, um, we’ve come together to witness the... joining together of this man and... this... this, uh, woman.”

Monobear tilted his head to one side and asked, “What’s with the stuttering? You’re not Fukawa-san in disguise, are you? I’d think you were her if the real one wasn’t right here.”

Byakuya smiled softly at the portrait.

“I wasn’t Fukawa-chi last time I checked, no. Okay, so Byakuya Togami and... Touko Fukawa have come to be joined in marriage, ‘right?” Yasuhiro’s eyes flickered. “This is the bit when I’m meant to talk about how important marriage is but to be honest, I can’t describe it in a way that applies to everyone here and my legs are starting to ache. All I’m doing is making it legal and stuff, ‘right? So, if you guys can give a good reason why these two shouldn’t get married, feel free to share it. Please do. In fact, I wholeheartedly encourage it.”

No one said anything.

“Continue,” said Monobear. Byakuya gave a curt nod.

“Right...” Yasuhiro looked at the portrait. “Now onto the vows. I don’t have any original ones so I’m going to base this one off one I read on the internet. Fukawa-chi, do you take Togami-chi to be your lawfully wedded husband? That involves promising to honor and cherish each other, even when times aren’t so good or if you’re sick, until the day you d-”

A pause .

“-die.”

Silence.

Yasuhiro shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So how do we...?”

“She said, ‘I do,’” said Byakuya impatiently.

“I’ll have to take your word for it, Togami-chi.” Yasuhiro motioned to Byakuya. “And do you take Fukawa-chi to be your lawfully wedded...?”

“Wife, yes,” said Byakuya. He set a fist over his heart, eyes glazed over, and Makoto realised with a jolt that Byakuya had prepared his own vows. “Touko Fukawa, in front of everyone present, I pledge to you unyielding loyalty and devotion. I hereby dedicate myself to you and will honour and respect you, regardless of the obstacles that we will inevitably face.”

He almost sounded like himself again but the reality of his words and the situation they were in dawned back onto Makoto like a rug being tugged violently from underfoot.

“... You shall be my constant and I yours, and even after the day that I pass on, I will...” Byakuya’s features hardened. “... l-love you.”

Aoi doubled over and hid her face in her hands. Her blond son gave one of her quivering shoulders a firm squeeze that he meant to be comforting. The other son whined.

“It’s ring time,” sang Monobear, and he whipped out a cushion from behind his back that couldn’t have been there a few seconds ago.

Byakuya plucked a ring off the cushion and placed it on one of the top corners of the portrait. “I wed thee with this ring.” He put the other ring onto his finger and smiled to himself.

Monobear cleared his throat loudly. “Let’s wrap it up, bastards!”

Yasuhiro forced himself to speak. “With the power invested in... me, you can uh. Kiss. I guess.”

Makoto felt the portrait leave his hands. He made the mistake of glancing up and saw the newly wedded couple kiss.

[“I love you,” Byakuya whispered, unashamed, breath heavy against the smooth surface of the portrait, and the world finished dissolving around him, wet and trodden rose petals at his feet.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qv3-vANWwcU)


End file.
